


Love: A Temporary Insanity

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bitter/Angry Cas, Bitter/Angry Dean, Crazy Castiel, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean, Flash backs and Flash forwards, Friendship/Love, Hallucinations, Insane Castiel, Introspective Castiel, M/M, Mark of Cain, Multiverse, Non-Linear Narrative, Nurse Meg, Season/Series 07, Unrequited Love, Young Dean Winchester, teenage dean, too much doctor who and deadpool and season seven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:09:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You thought I would offer to help you? Cas-” Dean shook his head, his voice a low growl. “I was out. I was happy.”</p><p>“You were not happy.” Castiel snarled then, surprised by his outburst, he stared demurely out the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love: A Temporary Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Who's procrastinating writing the painful next chapter to Upstairs Downstairs?? /this guy/

 

 

 

Insanity pops surfaces.

 

Surfaces between time and space, surfaces between realities. The surfaces of Castiel's bubbles were becoming suds, sticking and joining together, creating and shrinking and destroying, instead of fizzing separately in a cosmos of champagne, always up, always moving.

 

Now they were coagulated together. Becoming indistinguishable.    


 

Castiel had done a lot of coagulating, since being left within the hospital.

 

Time was bubbly here, confusing. Castiel could remember things that had passed and things that had yet to come. The bubbles were all bumping together- there were things that Castiel knew would happen, could happen shifting up to the surface of present thought.

 

Sitting on the edge of his little bed, Castiel swallowed, his eyes lowered from the window. “I never meant for this too happen.”

 

“I know you didn’t,” said Dean, standing in the corner of the room. No matter how often Castiel saw him he always wore the same jacket and jean combination. Every Dean in every universe in every time wore that same combo within this room.“Only, not everyone sees it that way. Humanity is under attack because of your vision. Even when you strive so hard to make peace Cas, all you do it make war.”

 

The words hurt, as much as such words could. Castiel looked at Dean, his vision of the man blurring, wet.

 

Tears-

 

With his mind so out of order it was even harder to maintain control of his vessel.

 

“Sam,” he asked; a subject change. “How is he?”

 

“Better I suppose since you took on his hell scars.” Dean looked out the window, his expression, for lack of a better term; moody. “You really thought that this would work didn’t you?” he asked.

 

“Well…yes… " Castiel  admitted, somewhat embarrassed. He scratched at his shoulder with one hand, before he brought it back down and turned serious again. He could barely feel the tears dripping from the end of his down turned nose. “I thought that you would see how much I was- my struggle, against Raphael, Heaven… offer me help and we would go from there.”

 

Sadness was such a numb thing, like trying to touch heat while still wearing protective gloves.

 

“You thought I would offer to help you? Cas-”  Dean shook his head, his voice a low growl.  “I was  _out_. I was  _happy _ .”

 

“You were  _not  _ _happy_.”  Castiel snarled, then, surprised by his outburst, he stared demurely out the window.

 

** pop **

 

In the corner of his eyes Dean shifted. Dean’s youthful face was even more painful to gaze upon when he looked so much closer to Castiel’s Dean, this Dean was years younger, he was the first.

 

The Dean Castiel pulled from Hell.

 

“Guess what Cas? In the life of Dean Winchester, what I was was happy.”  Dean  hissed, jaw clenched, eyes hard.  “I didn’t need you. I don’t need you.”

 

“I know.” said Castiel. Then a little quieter. “I just thought you knew.”

 

“Knew?”

 

“When we were in Purgatory- no,”  Castiel shook his head, his ears popped with bubbles ,  ** pop  pop pop**. “That hasn’t happened yet.”

 

“But when we were at Robert Singers house,” he amended. “Then again when you trapped me in the ring of holy fire in Ellsworth’s headquarters. In Hell even, the first time, or within the green room, when I first chose the path of disobedience. ” He turned to meet Dean’s gaze accusingly.  _ “I thought you knew.” _

_ _

Dean looked confused, then surprised. Realisation crawled over his chiselled features and quickly turned into something like pain.

 

“Some of us are made to take pain, we suffer better than others.” Castiel mumbled, or to something of the like. He quirked a smile at Dean, before his lips stilled. “All the pain I’ve endured.” He said, “Murdered and re-murdered, stabbed, possessed and hacked into and blown up and manipulated -”

 

Dean winced.

 

“It would be enough to drive anyone insane.” Castiel said with a grin. “There’s no relief for something like me Dean.”

 

The unspoken, ‘there’s no relief for some thing like you’ hung in the air between them. 

 

** pop **

 

“You know Cas,” Dean said after several long minutes of silence. His eyes flashed black, a different Dean now, and Castiel stared; thorny beauty indeed. “I’ve killed a lot of people.”

 

Castiel didn’t say anything.

 

“Killed so many people I’ve lost count,” Dean laughed though Castiel didn’t see the humour. Smoke, black like inky tar was wheezing through the corners of his eyes. When he spoke flies spilled from between his lips disintegrating on the air like dust. Castiel inhaled and could feel his throat, or his vessel’s throat trying to swallow around the taste, sulphur and decay. Demon.

 

Still as a creature of corruption, Dean appeared _lovely_.

 

“Do you know why Cas ?”

 

“I said,” when Cas didn’t answer, Dean moved to stand in front on him, bending so close the ram's curl of his horns pressed against Castiel’s forehead, burning him. “Do you know _why_?”

 

“No,” Castiel said, “I don’t. Not yet.”   _maybe never._

_ _

The Demon's lips broke into a beautiful smile.

 

“Yeah,” Dean gave a short wry laugh, he looked down at the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat absentmindedly between his fingers. He had probably been playing with it for some time without either himself or Castiel even realising it. “Neither do  I.”

 

** pop **

 

When he stepped back he was a different man, human where it counted,  scratching viciously at a Mark on his arm.

 

_ The Mark. _

 

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, no- this hadn’t happened yet.  Couldn’t-

 

“Dean,” He  managed, his voice just this side of steady. “Don’t scratch. You’re only making it worse.”

 

Dean looked at him a moment, hand frozen on his wrist, before he started laughing,  manic, humourless laughter.  “Don’t scratch the itch he says, don’t scratch. Son’va’bitch, Cas coming from you? You can never leave well enough _alone_.”

 

** pop pop pop pop pop pop pop **

 

"Each bubble represents an infinite universe," Castiel said. "and our cosmic champagne flute is home to infinite bubbles." He reached out and touched Dean's arm, palm sliding over the mark which burned like dry ice against his skin, until it didn't. 

 

Sixteen year old Dean Winchester looked at him. He looked so much older in his brothers eyes. "Wanna know why I have such a tragic social life Cas? No Friends, no partner." 

 

"You never usually talk about your self. Your feelings." Castiel explained. "Is It because you've killed them all?" 

 

The humour left Dean's face. 

 

** pop **

 

"No,"   Castiel said. "That's not it you don't kill, you- you save you do good."

 

Dean pulled his wrist back, his eyes once again black. Horns again, curled from his forehead, frontward facing. In any animal, even Demons, Castiel knew they were as good as for attack as they were for defence. 

 

Dean seemed to smile more with black eyes, Castiel was not sure how he felt about that.

 

"Is it because you cannot admit that you need anybody?"  Castiel asked, musing aloud.

 

Dean's upper lip twitched into a hint of a sneer.

 

"Is it because you love to be needed, you make your friends, lovers, strangers dependant upon you, while so desperately trying to remain independent yourself. Healthy relationships-" Castiel  began as though he was reciting from a book. Maybe he was. He looked down at his lap just to check. No book.  "Healthy relationships must be a balance of give and take, dependence and interdependence, and you,"

 

He looked at Dean who refused to meet his eye.

 

"You suck at relationships." 

 

Dean was looking down at his hands clenched tightly by his sides. "So what  Cas? You want me to apologise?" 

 

"I want you to admit that instead of trying to make Lisa Braden and Ben need you, you should have swallowed your pride and asked me to come back."  said Castiel, rising from his bed he stood and stared at Dean, every line of his body accusing. "You should have admitted that you needed me. That you need me or that you want me with you. That I am not just some pawn you can manipulate, that you can discard like this," he gestured around them at the hospital room, "when you have no further use for me."

 

"I will," said Dean quietly. "I will tell you one day that I need you." 

 

"Too little too late it would seem."  Castiel said, gesturing to the Mark on Dean's arm, the blackness of his eyes. "You'll be so consumed with the bigger picture that you'll forget all the details... "

 

Losing track of his thoughts he opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking; 

 

"I thought you knew."  he repeated his voice dull, flat, weary.

 

"Cas..."  Dean said softly, looking at him with a pained expression. As pained as a Demon's expression could be.   


 

"I hate you." said Castiel staring at him sadly. "Or I will hate you. Or I have hated you."

 

Dean did not cringe from the stare, just flexed his hands from fists to open and back again. "I'm sorry." 

 

Castiel searched his face. "I really thought you knew."

 

"I'm sorry," Dean said again. "Is that why you keep coming back when you hate me so much?"

 

Castiel swallowed, glancing away.

 

"Have I messed up so badly that this can't be fixed?"  Dean questioned, eyes scouring Castiel's face.

 

Castiel took a step back, but Dean joined him in a step forward.

 

Dean was so close now, close enough that  Castiel could feel the hunters breath on the side of his face. 

 

"Are you sure there's nothing," Dean said sulphurous breath tickling Castiel's cheek. "That I can do?"

 

Castiel's breath hitched. He tired to move but there were large hands on his shoulders, warm hands. He looked up in surprise and in the harsh light from the Venetian blinds found Dean's lips on his.

The kiss was sad, painful, apologetic, resigned; a press of lips on lips that was far too short.  Dean's horns scratched against Castiel's forehead with every movement of Dean's jaw. Dean's tongue was forked and long and licking him, loosening the seem of Castiel's lips with ease.

It was more of a mockery than anything else. Sulphurous and Demonic and not Castiel's first kiss with Dean Winchester. Not his Dean.

When Dean pulled away, a question in his eyes,  Castiel took several strides away, back turned.

 

** Pop  pop  pop pop pop pop **

"Problem is Cas that I knew. I knew the whole time."  All of the Dean's said as one, quietly. "I just was never gonna do anything about it."   


 

"Because I'm useful." Castiel finished for him, shoulders shuddering with a weight that surprised him. With stilted movements he reached the bed, steadied himself and sat down. Dean was a blue of colour and wet light before him. "Because-because-"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes they were hard, sharp.

All versions of Dean aside from one disappeared.

 

"You're better off here Cas," The one Dean said, and believed it. "You'd be so much better off away from me and my crap." 

But just when that single Dean-  Castiel's  Dean- was about to leave the room, Castiel spoke up softly; 

"Did you ever want me? Not that you just want to fix me or to use me. But do you _want me_?"

Dean clenched his jaw, green eyes strangely hollow. "No." 

** pop **

 

Sitting on the edge of his little bed, Castiel swallowed, his eyes lowered from the window.

oOo

Meg watched from the doorway as Castiel sat on his bed, utterly immobile aside from the tears from his eyes. He sat facing the window, legs firmly on the ground, hands folded in his lap. His trench coat like a cape was draped over his shoulders. He was looking out the window with something that was maybe confusion, or maybe concern, but whatever it was it was ridiculously tender, the only mark of his crying was the trembling shoulders, and the tears that spilled from the corners of his eyes.

 

He'd been that way all day now. Catatonic. Crying.

 

“Meg?” 

 

Sam Winchester's voice crackled down the phone line, shifting Meg's attention from the Angel to the Hunter. “Yeah Sam, Sleeping Beauties still,” she looked at Cas sitting on the bed, remembering that just the day before he'd been lying unconscious in the bed, “sleeping.” 

 

Disappointed. Sam Winchester sounded disappointed. Meg waited a moment for him to repeat her words back to his brother. “Oh-okay.” he must have pulled the phone from his ear for there was a shuffling sound and then muffled talking. Meg could hear the purr of the Winchester's Impala in the background.

 

Maybe Castiel heard it too, he twitched and looked over his shoulder at her. Through her.

 

He was still crying.

 

It made Meg uncomfortable.

 

Bringing the phone back Sam spoke a little sadly, “Dean says to ah, keep us informed if anything goes on okay? If Cas wakes up or, or anything. ” 

 

Staring right at Castiel Meg spoke into the cell phone. “Don't hold your breath boys, Angel's out like a light. ” She watched Castiel for several moments, perhaps expecting some sort of reaction out of him. The Angel just stared at her with bloodshot red eyes. He turned eventually, back toward the window.

 

Meg leant back on the door jab and crossed one arm over her chest.  “Take your time boys. Ain’t nothin going on here.” 

 

Sam ended the call without a goodbye, Meg couldn't really care less. She pocketed the phone and walked into the room, her nurses soft soled shoes rubbing against the laminated floor.

 

“Alright Angel you wanna go out to the garden?” she asked Castiel.

 

He said nothing, but looked away from the window to face her, like a puppet being controlled with string. Despite the tears on his face he was smiling.  His expression a mix of childlike bliss and obliviousness,  as though the last few moments hadn't happened at all.

 

"Come on,"  said Meg, and after a moment of serious thought took his hand. "They say it's gonna be sunny all afternoon. You can uh- play in the garden. Flowers and shit you know. Might even be some bugs out there for ya."     


 

Castiel's smile brightened.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are love!
> 
> [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)


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